On Top of Old Smoky


On top of old smokey
All covered with snow
I lost my true lover
For courting too slow

For courting's a pleasure
And parting's a grief.
And a false hearted lover
Is worse than a thief.

For a thief will just rob you
And take all you save,
But a false hearted lover
Will lead you to the grave.

And the grave will decay you
And turn you to dust.
Not one girl in a hundred
A poor boy can trust.
They'll hug you and kiss you
And tell you more lies.
Than cross lines on a railroad
Or stars in the skies.

So come all your maidens
And listen to me,
Never place your affections
On a green willow tree.

For the leaves they will wither
And the roots they will die.
You'll all be forsaken
And never know why.